


The Whole of the Moon

by MotherofFirkins



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-03-29 17:59:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13932315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherofFirkins/pseuds/MotherofFirkins
Summary: A vicious plot sends Sansa Stark and Brienne of Tarth into the orbit of Westeros' most notorious exile, the presumed dead Jaime Lannister.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So this is just a silly thing - an homage to 90s-era harem-centered historical fiction, but with a Jaime/Brienne-inspired twist.

The plan was even more brilliant than she realized. The Stark girl was gone. Her father, the new Hand, was devastated. And, best of all, Robert blamed _Stannis_ for the pirate attack on the _Prince Joffrey_. For once in her life, Cersei Lannister actually enjoyed consoling her husband.

The great oaf collapsed in her arms when he heard the news, sobbing on about how Ned would never forgive him. He didn’t, she noted, consider how Joffrey would feel about the death of his betrothed. No, it was all about the Starks. Again. Perhaps, the Queen mused, Robert hadn’t loved Lyanna nearly as much as he loved her brother. 

His love was their downfall. Cersei suffered through Joffrey’s betrothal to Sansa Stark at Winterfell in silence. Throughout the 15 long years of their marriage, she’d learned to bide her time. To wait for the perfect opportunity to strike. She found it when Robert, in a fit of romanticism, suggested they send a ship to fetch Sansa from White Harbor, ahead of her father’s host. The girl would arrive in King’s Landing like the Princess she’d soon become. The smallfolk would love the spectacle and Joffrey would enjoy spending time with his betrothed away from the watchful eyes of her father. 

In truth, Cersei thought, Robert was afraid of someone stealing Sansa away, just as Rhaegar had stolen Lyanna from him all those years ago. To make him suffer through that again was the sweetest revenge of all. But it wasn’t all about the past. It was the future too. She had no intention of sharing power with either the Starks or Robert’s brothers. When Joffrey wed, it would be _her_ choice and _her_ allies. 

Once Robert sank into a drunken stupor, Cersei slipped out into the night to meet with her co-conspirator. The moon caught the silver of his hair, and not for the first time, the Queen was reminded of Rhaegar Targaryen. In the light of day, Aurane Waters was nothing compared to that perfect Prince, or even her brother Jaime, but he had the distinct advantage of being alive, unlike those two fools.

He reached for him, but Cersei swatted his hands away. Business before pleasure.

“The girl,” she asked. “You took care of her yourself?”

“And the big wench too.” He laughed. “They certainly put up a fight.”

That had been another stroke of genius, Cersei thought. When Renly had presented that monstrous creature from Tarth at court, it was Cersei’s own brilliant idea to innocently suggest that she’d make the perfect sworn sword to the Stark girl. Unlike a member of the Kingsguard, the beast could stay right in Sansa’s cabin. It made them easy pickings for Waters’ men, as well as added Renly to the list of people Robert would inevitably blame for the disaster. Two women and a septa. They were easy pickings, which gave her a sudden, uneasy, thought.

“You didn’t…” she started.

Waters laughed again. “Have them? No, your orders were very clear. I cut their throats and threw them into the sea.”

“Very good,” Cersei said. She slipped her fat ruby necklace over her head and pressed it into Waters’ hand. “For now. As for the rest, 'A Lannister always pays her debts.'"

"As I well know," Waters agreed. "You've given me a fine income, and made me come fine. Speaking of, can I offer my Queen any more of my services tonight?" he asked suggestively.

"No," Cersei told him. "Robert may be indisposed, but my son needs me tonight. You've done well, Aurane, but you must leave for now."

He bowed. "As you wish." 

The Queen was so caught up in her own triumph that she missed the smirk on Waters’ face as he turned and walked away.


	2. The Narrow Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn what's happened to Brienne and Sansa on the way to King's Landing

Brienne would never forgive herself. She’d been fast asleep, dreaming of Renly, when the attack thrust her and Sansa into a living nightmare. The Septa, seven save her, left their cabin to investigate the commotion on deck. It was the last they’d seen of her. At least she tried to do something. All Brienne did was shove Sansa behind her when the pirates burst through their cabin door. She didn’t even grab her sword. She flinched. For all of Ser Goodwin’s training, when the moment came to protect her charge, she flinched. 

Two men grabbed her and pushed her aside, while the third, a silvery blond nearly as handsome as Renly, addressed Sansa directly.

“Gather what you need. Now.”

Sansa didn’t flinch. “Stop!” she demanded, when one of the pirates raised his dagger to Brienne’s throat. “I need _her_ ,” she said, sounding every inch the future Queen.

The blond man considered her demand. “If I give you this, you’ll both come quietly?”

“We promise,” Sansa eagerly agreed. “But you don’t have to do this. My father will pay you.” She gestured to Brienne, “And she’s the heiress to Tarth.”

The pirate laughed. “An heiress? If she were my heir, I’d pay the pirates to carry her off.” He turned to Sansa, “As for you, your father can’t possibly give me what my lady will. Now, not another word, or I’ll cut your wench’s throat myself.”

They followed their captor out of the cabin and on to the deck of the _Prince Joffrey_ , where they were swiftly transferred to another vessel, and shoved into a small cabin together.

It was the longest night of her life, but Brienne was grateful for the dark. She wasn’t sure she could look Sansa in the eye. She’d stood in White Harbor and vowed to Catelyn Stark that she’d defend her daughter. She’d promised Queen Cersei herself to serve her son’s bride. Worst of all, Renly trusted her with the position. She failed them all. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered to Sansa. “I was supposed to protect you.”

“What could you have done?” Sansa asked flatly. “Whatever you tried, they would have killed you. I’m scared, Brienne.”

“You’re scared?” Brienne was shocked. The younger girl had been so composed throughout their ordeal. “But, you saved me. You don’t even really know me, but you saved me.”

“I was afraid to be alone,” Sansa confessed. “Oh, I’m so sorry Lady Brienne. Maybe they would have let _you_ go if I hadn’t said anything.”

“No, they would have killed me too. These aren’t just any pirates. They’re working for someone important. Who could it be? Do you know?”

Sansa thought for a moment. “Enemies of my father? Or someone who doesn’t want me to marry Prince Joffrey? I don’t know. What’s going to happen to us, Brienne?”

On Tarth, she’d grown up with tall tales of pirates spiriting away the pretty girls who strayed too far from home. Her Septa, however, assured Brienne that _she_ was in no danger. “Thank the Seven for your face, Brienne,” she told her. 

And yet here she was, on her way to the gods knew where. Actually, she amended that. She had an idea where.

“We’re in the middle of the Narrow Sea now, I think,” Brienne told her. “I think we’re going to the Free Cities. They don’t mean to keep us. They must be taking us to someone else.”

“Maybe they’ll listen,” Sansa said hopefully. “Maybe they’ll send to my father.”

Brienne doubted it, but she didn’t have the heart to tell Sansa that just yet.

After a few days at sea they were transferred to yet another ship. They didn’t see their silver captor again. The new captain was a different sort. 

“Welcome to the _Valyrian_ , my ladies,” he greeted them with a friendly smile. “Salladhor Saan at your service. 

“My lord! I’m…”

“No!” the captain said, holding up his hand to stop Sansa before she could say anything more. “I don’t want to know anything about you. No offense, my lady, but sometimes a little knowledge is dangerous for a man like me.”

“But,” Brienne couldn’t help herself. She had to try.

“Don’t. Not another word about who either of you _were_. What you are _now_ is precious, expensive, cargo.”

It was almost funny, Brienne thought, that she’d spent most of her young life _wanting_ to be treated like she was a real girl. Now, here she was, sharing the fate of so many unfortunate girls before her. Oh, to be sure, she didn’t expect to end up in a brothel or pillow house. Without an island to gain, what man would want her? But maybe she could be a guard? She could eventually find a way to help Sansa escape and bring her back home. She had to bring her home.

For all of his talk of “cargo”, however, Salladhor Saan treated them more like honored guests. As they journeyed ever further south, he invited Sansa and Brienne to dine with him in his captain’s cabin.

“You cost me a fine number of dragons,” he told Sansa, “but I suspect you’ll bring me even more gold. Just look at you! The Wildlings would call you ‘kissed by fire’, but you’ll be kissed by more than that,” he laughed.

Sansa blanched. “Where are you taking us?” 

She and Brienne had spent hours speculating and worrying about their destination, but neither of them had the courage to ask the captain. They weren’t ready to hear the truth. Until now.

“To Lys, my girls. My old friend Lysander Rogare won’t be able to resist you. Oh, how striking you’ll be with your red hair and your own sworn sword beside you. His wife, my dear cousin, died a little more than a year ago. Now it’s just Lysander and his daughter Aliandra. She’s a few years older than you,” he said, nodding toward Brienne, “mayhap she’ll be a friend to you both.”

“Is he a Prince?” Brienne asked.

“You girls don’t know your history, do you? The Rogares were one of the most powerful merchant families in Lys. One of their own, Larra, married Viserys Targaryen and became the mother of Aegon the Unworthy, Queen Naerys and the Dragonknight himself. Unfortunately, they reached too high and fell into ruin. Lysander’s restored their fortunes, though. He cares for gold more than power, so the other great families aren’t threatened by him yet.”

“What is he like?” Sansa wondered. “Is he kind?”

“He’s about my age, but not nearly so handsome,” Salladhor told her with a wink. “He makes his gold in trade and spends it on leisure. Win him over and you’ll be a beloved and pampered bride. And you,” he said, turning to Brienne, “...will be there too!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: we'll meet Lysander and Aliandra and learn a bit about their mysterious "cousin" Drazenko.


	3. The Poisoned Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aliandra Rogare deals with the fallout from her father's latest purchase and visits her "cousin" Drazenko.

Drazenko Rogare’s charming manse spanned a particularly lovely stretch of the Summer Sea coast. It was a quick journey from Lys, but worlds away from the bustle of that port city. To Aliandra, the balmy air smelled of lemons, salt, and her best childhood memories.

Even after her father gifted the house to Drazenko, her family frequently visited their former pleasure home. Aliandra spent many happy hours splashing in the sea and playing with the litters of black kittens that always seemed to spring up around the grounds. Draz loved to pick her up and spin her around until she laughingly begged him to stop while Briony, who did the real running of the small household, slipped her sweet treats.

She hated to return their hospitality with such a poisoned gift, but she couldn’t think of a better way to rid them of her father’s foolishness. To be fair, when she heard about her father’s latest purchase, Aliandra was frankly relieved. He missed her mother. A new lover, or better yet, a new wife, would keep him distracted and out of her business.

As was her habit, she met the girl and welcomed her into their home. She was pretty enough, with her red hair and vivid blue eyes. Her sworn sword, however, was another matter. She was a huge, mannish creature with hair like straw and a face full of freckles. Still, she looked strong and Aliandra imagined they’d be able to find a place for her in the household. 

The big girl sat silently while Aliandra talked with her mistress about what she could expect in the days to come. Unfortunately, her attempt to put the girls at ease backfired when the redhead eventually felt comfortable enough to confess her true identity.

“I’m Sansa Stark,” she told her tremulously, “And she,” she said, pointing to the big girl, “is Brienne, the heiress to Tarth.”

Tarth meant little to Aliandra, but she loved the game enough to know exactly who Sansa Stark was. Or, more precisely, who she was to be. 

“Don’t say a word to _anyone_ ,” she warned the girls. She went straight to her father.

“You can’t keep her,” she told him firmly.

“Your mother never cared when I took a new concubine now and then,” he protested. “Why should you?”

“Salladhor didn’t tell you about her, did he? No, of course not. He probably didn’t know himself. He’s too smart to ask questions he doesn’t want the answers to. Father, she’s _Sansa Stark_. She was supposed to be the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, but someone powerful didn’t want that to happen.” She sighed. “We can’t put ourselves in the middle of whatever is going on in Westeros, so we can’t send her home and we can’t send her on to King’s Landing. No one can ever know she was even here.”

“Then what should we do, Aliandra? I refuse to just kill the girl. No respectable man of Lys would harm such a beauty.”

“Send her to someone else. Someone we can trust,” she said meaningfully. She’d already decided what they were going to do. Now she just had to convince her father to agree.

“Drazenko? Is he the right man to shelter a _Stark_?”

“Why not, Father? Westeros means nothing to him now, and the gods know he can keep a secret. Sansa Stark will disappear just as surely as Jaime Lannister.”

“He won’t like it.”

“No,” Aliandra agreed. “But what is it that they say? ‘A Lannister always pays his debts.’”

“They do, my darling daughter, but they also roar,” her father warned her. 

Briony’s warm greeting, lacking any feline connotations, brought her back into the here and now.

“Lady Aliandra!” she exclaimed, wrapping her in an embrace. “It’s been far too long.”

“It has! And there’s something here that wasn’t here before,” she said delightedly, gesturing to Briony’s growing belly.

“If the gods be good, I’ll have my lord’s son at my breast when he returns from his journey. Oh, what a surprise that’d be after all of these years.”

Aliandra frowned. She was hoping Gerion would help her convince Draz to go along with their plan. He was far more aware of Westerosi politics than his nephew. 

“I need to see Draz, Briony. Tell him it’s an urgent family matter.”

Briony gasped. “Has something happened to Lysander? Or do you mean the Lannisters?”

“No,” Aliandra quickly reassured her. “Nothing’s happened. My father and I just need Draz’s help with a rather delicate matter.” 

Briony went to fetch Draz and left Aliandra alone with her thoughts of the man who now called himself Drazenko Rogare. She couldn’t remember when her childish affection for Draz turned into a woman’s attraction, but she wouldn’t forget the exact moment when she’d put those feelings aside. It was on one of their family visits. She couldn’t have been more than four and ten, just starting to grow into a typical Lyseni beauty and just learning how to use that beauty on men. She batted her eyelashes and looked up at Draz with an invitation in her big lilac eyes. _His_ eyes, his beautiful green eyes, which, for her, had always been filled with laughter, turned to ice. For just a moment, he _was_ Jaime Lannister. The Kingslayer. She’d never even wanted to try again. Of all of the “gifts” she could bring Draz, a woman, even one as lovely as Sansa Stark, was the last thing he would want. 

She found warmer eyes and warmer hearts to love, but Aliandra thought, when she saw him again, she hadn’t found a better looking man than Drazenko. He was tall and golden, and if the few scars that crossed his face made him less pretty, they also made him more attractively rakish to her eyes. 

It was that very rakishness that made her come straight to the matter at hand rather than play games. Draz had to know the seriousness of the situation to understand exactly what they were demanding of him.

“Sansa fucking Stark,” he said, after she told him their plan. “You want me to bring Ned Stark’s daughter, Joffrey Baratheon’s betrothed, into my home, and into my bed, I suppose.”

“Sansa Stark needs to disappear. Who can understand that better than you?”

Draz sighed. “I’d like to disappear _now_ ,” he said bitterly. “Your father might think he’s doing me at least some of a kindness, but _you_ know better, Ali. You know you have me trapped. Any move I make, I end up helping someone I hate.”

Aliandra smiled, a deceptively sweet smile, “I was counting on your spite to keep us all safe.”

He laughed, and Aliandra breathed a sigh of relief. He would agree to their plan. “So tell me, what is she like? Is she some dour Northerner, or is she more like her mother? I met her too, you know. In another life, I might have married her aunt Lysa.”

“She’s a lovely girl, with red hair and bright blue eyes. The servants say she’s kind, and I’ve seen it myself with the way she treats her sworn sword.”

“Sworn sword? So you’re giving me the Stark girl _and_ some Northern lunk I’ll have to take into my service?”

“Oh Draz, just wait until you see her.”

“Her?” For the first time, Aliandra saw a spark of interest in those green eyes.

“She’s a woman such as you’ve never seen before. I’d keep her for my own house, but I won’t separate the girls.”

“She’s beautiful too?”

Aliandra laughed again. “Oh no, Draz. She’s the biggest, ugliest woman I’ve ever seen. She’s magnificent!”

“A woman? I doubt it. So, _cousin_ , do they know who I am, truly?”

“No. I thought it best if we left that up to you. I did warn them about you, though. And about what would happen if they disobeyed you.”

“What did you say?” 

“I told the girls that you’d send them to the Dothraki if either of them displeased you.”

“That was one time!” Draz protested. “And, that girl _was_ Dothraki and I didn’t _send_ her anywhere. She just went back to her khalasar.”

“I wasn’t about to let the truth get in the way of a good warning.”

“Are you sure it’s wise to make them fear me?”

“If this is going to work, Draz, they’ll have to fear you, or love you. I just chose the more likely outcome. Do you deny it?”

“No,” he said. “Better they learn to fear me, than try to love me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with this so far. With most of the exposition done, we can get to the fun stuff: Jaime/Draz meeting Brienne!


End file.
